


Lamia

by NebulousMistress



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, I made myself sad, Implied Cannibalism, Legends and Stories of Pegasus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 18:09:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulousMistress/pseuds/NebulousMistress
Summary: There are many different monere in the Pegasus galaxy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The Lamia was a Greek monster with the upper body of a woman and the lower body of a giant snake. She ate babies and random men. If the Greeks cribbed the legend from the Ancients then why would she be such a horror?

I was named once but I do not remember. The centuries have been long and the memory is faded. No matter. I have other names. Mistress. Keeper. Monere.

Lamia.

The lore is fragmented, shattered memories of frantic activity between the Long Sleeps. I remember some of it.

We were a created race, meant to be a weapon against the Wraith. Humans were not sapient things therefore the Lanteans saw no moral reason not to create, to experiment, to alter. The failures could be destroyed without guilt. The successes could be ignored, their cries for freedom and pleas for release nothing more than the bleating of frightened animals.

I was a success. I do not know if I was ever human or if they bred me like this. But I was a success. I was a weapon.

We had one task. Infiltrate.

Our altered bodies were perfect for the task. Cold-blooded so we would blend in with the Wraith and their hives, no heat signature to give us away. Serpentine so we could crawl, slither, climb into the hive behind walls and under floors and over ceilings, squirm out of cocoons, wriggle between the bars of cages. We had our hands so we could sabotage, our voices so we could speak. Our torsos and heads looked human to fool the darts; release us into tall grass and the dart would swoop in to take the human it saw. Once they released us in their hives we would escape capture, evade, hide, and then destroy.

But the Lanteans made mistakes.

They didn't believe we were thinking things. They never hid their contempt for us.

They wouldn't feed us what our bodies craved. They studied our wasting, our pain, and decided their morals were more important than our lives.

They made the males too long to fit into the culling beams. The culling beams only took what fit.

I remember I was released into the tall grass and told to run, to slither, to act like enticing prey so the Wraith would cull me. I was not alone. I was released with a male I knew, a name I no longer remember, a face I miss, a scent I can still smell now. He and I marveled at the feel of grass under our scales, sweet-smelling air on our faces, the warmth of the sun awakening us. We cavorted in the grass, forgetting our task.

Until the flash of light.

I still remember the screaming.

The males were too large for the culling beams. Any part that did not fit was left behind.

The Wraith were merciful. They bound the stump of his missing tail, tried to ease his pain, in the end they twisted his neck until it popped and he was silent.

Then they turned on me. One stood out from the others, pale blue and tall with long white hair and teeth like mine.

“What are you, my child?” he asked.

“I do not know,” I said. “I was made. I was supposed to destroy you, to crawl into your hive and make it die.”

“You are a weapon,” he said.

“They made me a weapon. But I do not want to be. They let us go, told us to finish our task, they knew he would die like this.” I looked at the kind face with his comforting eyes that did not scorn me like I was an animal. “I want to be free.”

He put a hand on my head. It was the first time I felt a touch given of comfort. I did not know how to give such touches, I had not been taught. I wanted to learn.

“I must warn the other hives of this development,” he said. “Come with me. You must be hungry. What do you eat?”

I followed him. “I do not know. They fed us food that never nourished, always plants and pastes and pain.”

He fed me broth, telling me how they made it from the husks that remained of their drained prey. I drank it deeply, it remains the best broth I have ever tasted.

The Lanteans failed. I met others of my kind, all betrayed by our creators. Crippled males who would never know life without pain, who did not live long. Angry females who sought vengeance against our creators for their failures, their indignities, their presumptions. Yet we would not see war again. The Wraith gave us worlds to guard, humans to keep, lives to live.

But we are each alone.

I hear the news when the gate opens, I know there are few of us left. We have all slept the Long Sleep many times but fewer are waking up. I too have slept the Long Sleep but now I only wake up tired. My scales are dull in color now, my skin sallow, my vision fading. I am old.

My humans call me many things. Beloved. The Sleeper. Grandmother.

Lamia.

I keep my humans safe. When the Wraith come through the gate I choose who goes with them. In return the humans serve me as I grow ever more tired.

It has been centuries. Millennia. There is no amount of life the Wraith can give me now that would keep me awake.

I leave my throne for the last time to look upon my humans.

A vast city stretches in the valley below me, its banners adorned with my image as when I was young. I am their Keeper, I have kept them safe from themselves, from the Lanteans, from those humans who would not understand. I broker the agreements with the Wraith. I guide their laws and allow them their own governance.

I accept their sacrifices.

“Mistress?”

My attendant has found me escaped from my throne. She carries the oils she must rub into my scales to keep them supple. She bows, the beads of her station rattling like the scales they are meant to mimic.

“My pet,” I say.

“Mistress, are you all right?”

I shake my head. “I am tired,” I admit. “I will not be awake long. I will enter the Long Sleep soon and I do not know if I will awaken.”

“Mistress, do not say things like that. You are eternal, you have always been, you will always be.”

The girl's tears comfort me. My humans have not forgotten who owns them.

In the city below the gate opens. There must be news.

I have heard the rumors, that the Lanteans and the Wraith have reached an accord after these ten thousand years of war and silence and war again. I do not know if I believe it. But if it is true then...

Then I can finally sleep.

My task is over.

“Mistress?!”

I am their Keeper. I have kept them safe. Now they will stay safe and I can sleep.

“Mistress! Wake up!”

Sleep...


End file.
